A simple kind of blue,
Collected, released, dispersed.
Allowed to exist in many states, and not end.
Blue feels hopeful. Blue feels… simply eternal.
Even when things around are complicatedly finite.
A simple kind of blue,
Collected, released, dispersed.
Allowed to exist in many states, and not end.
Blue feels hopeful. Blue feels… simply eternal.
Even when things around are complicatedly finite.
My art is currently suffering from a lack of creative direction. Past work has been incredibly meta, leaning into the unsettled feeling of the world. I have a deep belief in balance, movement, and duality, so allowing both/and these last few years has been huge for my vision.
But it feels like my creative posture is getting bad. Or rather, my mind is feeling atrophy sitting in this meta state. We can feel all the hard feelings, but in the end, what are we going to do with them?
I could just be tired. Enough sleep hasn’t come easy, and right now when I take time for art, it falls flat. These two things together make it seem like the world is ending. It’s ridiculous and thankfully I recognize my own bullshit here.
But the fact remains that sitting (with feelings) for too long is bad for you. So, what does standing up look like?
This week, if you hadn’t noticed, I opted to either explore my photography archives or shoot something new, with an intention of detail. SO rather than spend my free time in the news, scrolling, or consuming some piece of new information, a break from the headiness of modern life seemed warranted.
Dreams and dreams only.
We’ve run away with possibilities and can’t see the utopia we already have.
We can’t see that we’re destroying it.
Or if we can, for whatever reason,
none of which I’ve heard is good enough
we don’t care.